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The needle slipped into his veins for the one thousandth time.  The bend of his under arm was scarred from painful yesterdays-days full of impressing judges, women, and fellow sports addicts.  As he felt the cold metal inside of him, his mind wandered to his ex-girlfriend.  They were childhood sweethearts, fellow body-builders, and the best of friends.  His life took a few wild turns, and she had her own path she wished to take.

Maybe this will bring her back...

~*~

Her hand gently slipped into his.  Softly she stroked back his soaking bangs.  A tear fell down her cheek as she took in his lacking, brutal frame-the body of the man she once loved.  Slowly her fingers traced his IV...

What if I never left...what than?

~*~

The heart monitor and the clock fought to keep time.  His first vision was her, fast asleep by his side-but his first thought was of overwhelming pain.  His hand slipped to his side, groping, fumbling for his flesh.  A wave of terror shot through him.  Bandages.

If only these could heal lost lives...

~*~

The first time she saw him out of surgery she had to hold back the vomit pressing on her throat.  But she had to face him.  She had a promise to keep.  Her shaking hands could barely grip the camera, and her heavy breath fogged up the lens-lens that tearing eyes could hardly see through.  *click*  *click*  Her deed was done.  Now she just had to reassure him all was well...

How do you comfort a dying lover?

~*~

He wanted to see for himself.  Finally he reconciled with her to give him the camera.  His eyes winced-there it was.  What was left of him.  His heart sank, knowing this could be the last picture taken of him.  This is how he would be remembered.  This was his fair warning to the world, which had never justly warned him.

Or had it?

~*~

The sweaty men slapped each others backs while exiting the gym.  A picture caught their eyes.  An out-of-focus photo of a man, laying in a hospital bed.  His skin was raw and there were bandages where a leg and hip should have been.  His face was stained with tears and fears.  The men ignored the sign, walking onward.

The sound of clanging needles escaped from their pockets...

~*~

The needle slipped out of his body for the last time.  He did not know he had just committed suicide.  Months later, a flesh eating disease would be the end of him, and a fatal photograph in a gym was all he had to leave behind.

He was determined, his death wouldn't be all for naught.